


Somewhere I Belong

by schizonephilim



Series: Redemption for the Fallen [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Free Will, In-Universe Supernatural Fanfiction, Insecure Lucifer, Kyra has nightmares about Carthage, Kyra is Gabriel's descendant, Kyra is a nephilim, Language, Lucifer Feels, Lucifer is misunderstood, Lucifer learns who Kyra's forefather is, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Pillow Talk, Season/Series 05, Secret Relationship, Sleeping with the enemy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-21 05:44:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11937570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schizonephilim/pseuds/schizonephilim
Summary: The silence between Kyra and Lucifer since the events of Carthage have taken a toll on the archangel…but after seeing Kyra’s latest dream, he knows he can’t stay quiet anymore.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the fifth story in my Kyra/Lucifer series! The title and general emotions of this story came from the song by Linkin Park, and this story doubles as a tribute to Chester Bennington. Enjoy! And if you like it, please leave a comment! They motivate me to keep writing!

     Ten days.  It had been ten days since Carthage, and Lucifer felt like he was slowly being driven insane in a far more effective way than the Cage ever could devise.

     It was silent.   _Too_  silent.  Kyra hadn’t made any effort to talk to him, to see him—and that worried him.  Before Carthage, he’d quickly gotten used to her presence in his life, talking to her through angel radio, the easy conversations that would sometimes go on for days.  Now that she was silent, all he could do was wonder why.

     Was she angry that he’d used the banishing sigil on her?  Had she been injured from it?  Doubt was slowly eating away at his composure.

     Of course she didn’t want to see him anymore.  He had slaughtered an entire town to raise Death.  She was a hunter; saving humans was her job, and he’d killed innocents just like any other monster she would hunt.  What else should he have expected?

     Except…he’d  _felt_  the agony in her Grace when she shot him, the  _guilt_.  The absolute horror and pain of what she was doing was plain to see.  Her apology still rang through his Grace, conveying so much more emotion than the words themselves.

     Dad…what was he supposed to do?  He was so confused, so  _torn_  from his conflicting thoughts.  He wanted to see her, talk to her…but did she still want him?  Why was she still silent?

     At that moment, he was thankful he was alone.  Since he met her, he’d taken to leaving his cadre of demon attendants behind.  It gave him the freedom to think and act without unwanted eyes.  He didn’t have to hide his emotions from his followers if they weren’t around.

     He started to feel a familiar tug at his consciousness, and he breathed a sigh of relief.  She had entered her dreamscape once more.  The path was familiar to him, but he hesitated.  Would he be welcome there?  To hell with it…he landed lightly in her dream, keeping to the shadows of the tree line.  He could observe first—see what kind of mood she was in before making his presence known.

     A gunshot rang out across the clearing, and his heart sank at the sight.  She was reliving Carthage—his dream self dropped to the ground at her feet.  Instantly, she tossed the Colt away, shame and horror on her face as tears started to fall.  He wanted to go to her, but he couldn’t seem to move.

     His doppelganger got up after a moment, just as he had.  Kyra was still crying, but now there was something else in her eyes that pained Lucifer.

     “I’m sorry.”  Her voice was shaking from terror, and it made Lucifer’s Grace ache with self-loathing.  “I didn’t want to…please, don’t be mad at me.”

     The bullet wound from his dream self healed, and he looked at her with a mild expression.  “Why would I be mad?”

     He watched as the other him took her into his arms, but there was something in the coldness of that embrace that filled him with dread.  “You only tried to kill me.”

     Before Kyra could pull away, his doppelganger pulled his sword out and stabbed her.  Lucifer wanted to scream, to run to her, but he seemed frozen in place, unable to act.  The utter  _anguish_  in Kyra’s eyes as she looked at her killer—as she looked at  _ **him**_ —was too much for him to bear.

     The dream Lucifer caressed her face, smiling down at her.  “Nothing personal, Kyra.”

     Suddenly, the room spun around him as he found himself on his knees back in the real world, his heart still hammering in his chest.  Even though it had only been a dream, it was so  _vivid_ , so  _real_.

     The dream replayed in his mind over and over, the images haunting him.  He knew why he had been thrown out so roughly; she had woken from her nightmare…a nightmare of him killing her in retaliation for what she had done.  Fuck…was  _that_  the real reason she had stopped talking to him?  Did she really think he was mad at her?  That he’d want to hurt her, or worse?

     He wanted to push the thought aside, but the image wouldn’t leave him.  Dammit, this  _had_  to be the answer.  The terror radiating from her couldn’t be explained otherwise.

     The heartbreak of that realization brought tears to his eyes.  Kyra was _afraid_ of  _ **him**_.  Did she not realize how special she was?  Did she think she meant nothing to him?  How could she  _not_  know?  She was the  _only_  being in all of Creation he cared about!  It wasn’t like the Colt had done anything worse than give him a headache.  Why did she think he wanted to hurt her for that?

     Damn it, he  _couldn’t_  lose her, not over this…he had to make this right.  He had to talk to her, make her see there was no reason to be afraid.  Angel radio was out of the question—she’d kept that connection turned off since just before Carthage.  There was only one way to get through to her now, and he needed to choose his words carefully.

     He started to pull himself to his feet, then abruptly stopped himself.  A chuckle formed in his throat when he remembered his first time in Kyra’s dreamscape; it was enough to make him sink back onto his knees.  After three long, slow, deep breaths, he closed his eyes, hoping beyond hope that she would decide to give him a chance.

     “Kyra, please…talk to me,” he started to pray, the words a whisper on his lips.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyra’s nightmare was a reflection of her fears…but when she hears Lucifer’s prayer to her, she knows she has to make a choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little more angst in this one. It’s kind of short, but part 3 will make up for it. Enjoy! And if you like it, please leave a comment! They motivate me to keep writing!

     Kyra jolted upright in her bed, terror racing through her as she clutched at her sternum frantically…but there was no blade to be found.  Thank God, just a nightmare—although it was one that haunted her every waking moment.  Retribution would come for her sooner or later.  She couldn’t allow herself to hope for a happy outcome, not after using the Colt on Lucifer.

     Sleep was out of the question now.  She dragged herself out of bed and started fumbling with the coffee maker; she was staying in a hotel instead of a motel for once, and it was nice to have a clean room and decent furnishings for a change.  Granted, she didn’t need the coffee to wake up, but the familiarity of the action was soothing.

     While the coffee brewed, she pulled out her laptop and sat at the desk in the room.  Once the computer finished starting up, she opened her browser and started skimming the obituaries, looking for a case, but her heart wasn’t in the search.

     No…in her mind, she was still in Carthage, begging Lucifer to forgive her.  She knew it wasn’t  _actually_  him—she could tell that much, even in a dream—but how could she expect a different outcome from the real Lucifer?  God may offer forgiveness and love, but he wasn’t his Father…and her betrayal had a price.

 _“Kyra, please…talk to me.”_   The jolt of terror that ran through her Grace at hearing Lucifer’s voice—hearing him  _pray_  to her—was tempered by the quiet, pleading tone he used.   _“I know…I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now, but…I miss you.  I miss talking to you.  I miss…everything.”_

     Fresh tears burned her eyes at his heartfelt tone.   _“I’m not angry, Kyra.  I’m sure you think I am, but I promise I’m not.  I want to see you, talk to you.  Just tell me when and where, and I’ll be there waiting.  Unless,”_  tears fell at his next words, the pain in his voice,  _“unless you don’t want to see me.  Please…just…think about it, okay?”_

     She held her breath, waiting, but nothing more was said.  She exhaled raggedly, wiping away her tears, angry with herself for crying.

     Of all the things she had expected, this wasn’t one of them.  If she didn’t know better, she would’ve said that he looked into her mind and told her exactly what she wanted to hear.  There was always the possibility of a trap, no matter how much she hoped otherwise.

     Damn it,  _why_?   _Why_  did she start falling for him?  The pain and despair in his prayer, mixed with that faint doubt and insecurity, still resonated through her Grace.  It didn’t just break her heart; it made her want to wrap her wings around him—to hold him and take away his pain.  Without her feelings for him, hearing his prayer wouldn’t hurt her like this.

     Shaking, she made herself a cup of coffee, taking comfort in the warm mug between her fingers.  Her mind and her Grace were so rattled that it was hard for her to think, but she knew she had to make a choice.

     Honestly, it wasn’t much of a decision.  She could refuse to see him, but there was no telling how he’d react to that—probably not well.  Besides, it went against everything she felt.  She  _ **wanted**_  to see him—wanted it so badly, it made her Grace ache—but until now, she considered that urge to be tantamount to suicide.  How could he  _not_  hate her for hurting him?  It made no sense!

     Really, it was much more likely that he was just trying to lure her in, but…there was that  _tiny_  hope that he was telling the truth.  She didn’t see how it was possible, but she  _wanted_  it to be true.  Even if it was all a ruse, he deserved a proper apology…and she deserved his vengeance.

     It was already well after dark, which made her feel better.  It felt right to face the music at this time of the night.  After a brief hesitation, she opened her side of angel radio, finding her private channel to Lucifer.

 _“The lake,”_ she told him quietly, knowing he would remember their last rendezvous spot.  Whether it was a trick or not, she was sick of living in suspense.   _“Ten minutes.”_


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer and Kyra meet for the first time since Carthage. Can they make it past this misunderstanding, or will it doom their relationship?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been looking forward to this scene for a long time It came out a lot longer than I expected, but you know what they say, the longer the better, lol! Honestly, I think it’s one of my best yet, but I’ll let you decide for yourselves. Enjoy! And if you like it, please leave a comment! They motivate me to keep writing!

     Eight minutes later, Lucifer was standing about ten feet from the water’s edge, fighting the urge to pace.  He was thankful— _beyond_  thankful—that she’d agreed to meet him, especially so soon, but even the short time frame felt like an eternity.

     It never crossed his mind that she wouldn’t show.  No, if he knew anything about Kyra, he knew she wouldn’t lead him on.  If she didn’t want to talk to him, she wouldn’t have agreed to meet him in the first place.  He was early, that was all.

     A slight flutter of wings made him turn.  Kyra was standing about ten feet further back from the shore, her hands tucked into her pockets.  Everything about her—her expression, her body language, even her Grace—told him that she was nervous.

     “Hi,” she muttered, her eyes fixed on the ground.  Her quiet tone sent a sharp pain through his Grace…did she still think he was angry?

     “Hi,” he said quietly.  The awkward tension was worse than her silence.

     “Lucifer, I’m sorry,” she said in a rush, finally looking at him.  “It wasn’t my idea, and it…I never wanted to hurt you, I’m sorry.”

     That was the second time she’d apologized, and he was just as stunned now as he was the first time.  Never, in his entire existence, had anyone  _ **ever**_  apologized for any of the pain they’d caused him…especially when it was something he could easily heal.

     “There’s nothing to apologize for,” he assured her quietly, taking a step toward her.

     His steps faltered when he saw her stiffen, terror in her eyes.  The sight made his heart break all over again…he didn’t want this.  He didn’t want her to be afraid of him!  He could feel how fragile the connection between them was now.  One false move, one misspoken word, and it would shatter.

     He stopped where he was.  “Kyra, are…are you afraid of me?”

     She looked like she was about to cry.  “I’m afraid of…of you being mad at me.  That I messed up this,” she hesitated, “this…whatever this is between us.  That you…you lied about not being angry just to get close enough to hurt me.”

     Tears burned his eyes at her quiet, honest answer.  Right then, he would’ve preferred a thousand years in the Cage if it meant not seeing that fear in her eyes.

     “I’m not mad at you, Kyra.  I never was.  I…I care about you.”  His voice dropped to a whisper.  “You didn’t mess up…this.”  Like her, he couldn’t think of a word to describe what they were.  “I would never hurt you, or lie to you.  Never.  Please, Kyra…don’t be afraid of me.”

     A tear ran down her face as she stared at him.  He could feel her surprise at his words—the fear wasn’t gone, but it wasn’t so intense now…he was on the right track.  When she spoke, her voice was shaky.  “I really want to believe that.”

     He took a deep breath.  “Kyra, I want you to understand…since I was cast out, everyone’s hated me, or feared me…usually both.  But you…you were different.  Special.  You knew who I was, but it didn’t matter to you.  You didn’t see me as a monster, or an enemy—and you have no idea how much that means to me.  And now…”

     Her heart twisted in her chest as tears escaped his eyes.  “I just…I can’t stand the thought of you being afraid of me…not you.  I can’t…I can’t lose you, Kyra…please.”

     Hearing his quiet, heartfelt confession made her jaw tremble as tears filled her eyes again.  Fucking Christ—she’d imagined any number of scenarios, but never  _this_.  She never dared to think that he cared about her beyond their trysts, but every word, every emotion running across his face that was reflected in his Grace, told her he was being absolutely honest.  A flash of guilt ran through her; her fears were hurting him.

     “Lucifer, I—I never wanted to hurt you,” she said quietly, taking a step forward.  “I just—I know how I feel, but I thought it was just sex to you.  I didn’t think you cared about…me.”

     His icy blue eyes were soft as they stared into hers; they were almost within arm’s reach now.  “Maybe it started that way…but I meant every word, Kyra.  I care about you, and I would  _ **never**_  hurt you.”

     Her hazel eyes glittered with unshed tears, but he could feel her fear subsiding.  “Really?”  He nodded at her question, and she slowly raised her hand.  “Can…can I see?  Feel?”

     The request caught him off guard.  For the briefest moment, he considered the notion that it was a trap of some kind—a way to delve into his mind to find his plans for the Apocalypse.  Just as quickly, he dismissed the thought.  “Of course.  I…” he swallowed, the words surprising him.  “I trust you.”

     Slowly, she closed the distance between them.  His hands rested gingerly on her waist as he looked down into her eyes.  Her hand hesitated for a moment before it came to rest on his cheek, caressing his face.

     The moment she touched him, a wave of emotions nearly overwhelmed her.  Every ounce of longing and confusion, every shred of pain at her silence and then her fear, his desperation to make amends, the  _need_  he had to be near her, the desire that ran far deeper than their sexual exploits—she felt it all as if they were her own emotions.  Her eyes watered again, but for completely new reasons.

     “Wow,” she whispered, awestruck.  Through the fog of emotions, she noticed that Nick was starting to deteriorate again.  A faint smile crossed her face as she channeled her healing energy, gently repairing the damage to Lucifer’s vessel and augmenting it, making it a little bit stronger.

     Surprise flitted across his face for an instant.  He brought a hand up and covered hers, his touch as gentle as his voice.  “I was alone for so long.  I thought I’d never care about anyone ever again…but I was wrong.”  A nervous smile tugged at his lips.  “How do you feel about me?”

     A jolt went through her at the question.  He was hopeful, but there was a nagging doubt that had him terrified.  She met his gaze with a hesitant smile.  “I can show you…if you want.”

     The warmth in his eyes made her want to melt into his arms.  “I’d like that.”

     Gently, she lifted his right hand from her hip and brought it to her face.  His thumb caressed her cheek as she closed her eyes, mentally searching for the wall between him and her emotions.  It only took a moment—she opened her eyes again, meeting his gaze as the wall between them was smashed down.

     All he could do was suck in a shocked breath, the intensity sending him reeling.  It was like standing in the middle of a firestorm.  Every bit of compassion and desire, the conflict she felt as her emotions led her down a path far different from what she had expected, all her doubts and guilt and fear from the last two weeks, even her pain from realizing how her fear had hurt him, the awe she felt when he shared his feelings with her—it all combined into one single, white-hot wave that threatened to engulf him.  In that moment, nothing was held back…and he cherished all of it, because it was honest, and  _real_ …and sacred, because it was all for him.

     Her hazel eyes were as gentle as the hand on his cheek.  “Now you know,” she whispered.

     “Kyra…I…”  His voice trailed off, words failing him as his heart beat frantically in his chest.

     “I know, Lucifer…I know,” she assured him quietly, resting her head on his shoulder as his arm tightened around her waist, pulling her close.

     Feeling her in his arms again—knowing beyond a doubt how deeply she cared for him—made his Grace  _ache_  when he realized how close he’d been to losing her.  The emotions were still flowing freely between them, so they could feel the longing that was rising in each other.  It was deeper, stronger than their previous times together…a visceral  _ **need**_  to feel each other, to be reassured of each other’s true feelings, to drown in the other’s devotion.

     Time was meaningless; the only thing that mattered was how close they were, and how it wasn’t enough.  Lucifer flew them back to the same room they had used for their previous trysts, but the emotions surging between them made it feel completely different.

     His heart hammering in his chest, he gently tilted her head up.  Words were lost to him as he stared into her hazel eyes.  The intensity of all those shared emotions were far too great to turn away—he leaned in and kissed her, his hand caressing her face in a tender gesture.

_(gif is not mine—I found it[here](http://heavnofhell.tumblr.com/post/163041847765/can-we-talk-about-this-please))_

     It felt like a bomb exploded in Kyra’s chest as she kissed him back.  She was beyond caring about anything other than the archangel holding her close—she  _needed_  him.  She needed  _this_ —to feel just how deeply he cared about her, to erase the heartache the last two weeks had brought.

     A quiet whimper escaped her as he pulled back.  He rubbed his lips together, savoring that sweet kiss.  “How long do you have?”

     His question brought a smile to her face.  “As long as I want.”

     He didn’t think to question it; he simply kissed her again, letting his  _need_  for her drive him on as he backed her up to the bed and laid her down.  A quiet snap of her fingers later, their clothes were gone, and it took every ounce of restraint he possessed to not take her right then.

     “Patience,” he said softly, drawing a soft whine from her as her fingers tangled in his hair.  He smiled as he leaned down, placing gentle kisses on her neck.  “I wanna take my time…show you what you mean to me.”

     His low, sensual whisper sent a jolt of anticipation through her…as badly as she wanted him, the idea of him taking his time nearly made her come undone.  It was even harder to maintain control when she felt his hand at her core, his fingers lightly stroking her soaked folds.

     “So much desire for me,” he murmured, his voice rough with lust as he trailed kisses down to her breasts.  A frustrated moan escaped her when he only gave them a few gentle kisses—but her breath caught in her throat as he moved lower, coming to rest between her thighs.

     Slowly, he skimmed his lips over her shaved mound, savoring the intimacy of the moment and the scent of her arousal.  They were beyond words now; the emotions flowing between them said more than words ever could.  This was new territory for them, but it felt  _right_.

     He dragged his tongue through her folds, moaning in pleasure at the taste before sucking her clit into his mouth.  The sensation made Kyra arch her back in pleasure, and the  _sounds_  she made…it all drove Lucifer on.  He was in no rush—his tongue traced around the sensitive flesh, alternating between long, slow licks and gentle suction, drawing out her pleasure as long as possible.

     Even so, it only took a few minutes before she was crying out his name, her orgasm leaving her a writhing, shuddering mess beneath him.  It wasn’t until the last tremors left her that he moved away from her clit to her entrance, savoring her juices.

     The experience left him shaking with desire for her, but he wasn’t done yet.  He kissed his way back up to her lips, claiming them in a smoldering kiss, letting her taste herself.  Wordlessly, he gently pulled her up to her knees facing the mirror wall, then positioned himself behind her, his throbbing cock pressed against her entrance.

     “I want you to see,” he whispered, brushing the hair away from her neck.  One of his arms wrapped around her waist as his other hand found hers, their fingers interlocking.  “How I adore you…how beautiful you are.”

     Slowly, he pulled her down onto his thick cock, drawing a moan of pleasure from both of them.  After the dread of thinking he had lost her, lost  _this_ , just feeling her sweet, wet heat around him—so tight and still quivering from the aftershocks of her orgasm—was almost too much.  He stopped when he was completely inside her, taking the moment to pull himself away from the edge as he placed delicate kisses on her neck.

     His eyes met hers in the mirror as he started moving in slow, deliberate thrusts, nearly pulling out before filling her again.  Oh, it was  _perfection_ —desire, adoration, trust, devotion…his arm tightened around her waist, pulling her closer, her back pressed against his chest.

     The newfound intensity between them drove their pleasure to new heights.  Already, she was on the edge once more; he knew he wouldn’t be able to last, but he  _needed_  to feel her come undone.  The hand around her waist moved down to her clit, his touch sending a shockwave of pleasure through her and sending her headlong into her orgasm.

     Feeling her inner muscles tightening around his cock was too much—he came deep inside her, gasping her name as he held her close.  It took several moments before either of them recovered enough to move; he pulled out of her and laid down, pulling her with him and holding her close.  The emotions passing between them were crystal clear, making words obsolete.  All their previous doubts and fears were gone in the wake of the absolute bliss they shared.

     They didn’t just care about each other.  They  _ **belonged**_ together.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As happy as Lucifer is to still have Kyra, he can’t help but ask why…but he ends up learning a lot more than he expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is the last part of this installment in the series. I promise, this is not the end of the series, not by a long shot! I know it’s been an emotional roller coaster, but I think you’ll agree that it’s been worth it. Enjoy! And if you like it, please leave a comment! They motivate me to keep writing!

     Lucifer had experienced a lot of things in his long life.  He’d witnessed the creation of the universe, seen the birth and death of countless stars, and watched the creation and extinction of countless species through the ages.  There had been joy and sadness in Heaven, pain and despair in the Cage.

     However, nothing could compare to the peace and serenity he felt as he held Kyra in his arms, her head on his chest, basking in each other’s affection.  It seemed impossible; he had committed countless atrocities, yet she never judged him for the things he’d done—things that she would never do herself, evil as they were.  In spite of everything, she cared about him just as deeply as he did for her.  It almost felt like a sin to break the mood, but he was  _desperate_  to understand.

     “Kyra, I’m really happy that you still wanna see me—that I didn’t lose you—but I have to ask,” he started, his voice quiet.  “Why?  I mean, I killed so many people.  But you…you’re here, with me, after everything I’ve done.  I don’t get it…why?”

     She sighed to herself at his question.  “Because I care about you, silly.  But, I don’t blame you…not really.”

     His eyebrows scrunched up in confusion.  “What do you mean you don’t blame me?   _I’m_  the one who did those things…I killed all those people.”

     All she did was shake her head slowly.  “I saw Sam’s memories of what happened, you know…how you told him that you  _had_  to do it.  And you honestly believed that, that you didn’t have a choice. And that’s what makes it tragic.”

     She propped herself up on her elbow, and he met her gaze.  “See, I’ve had a theory for a while.  I think angels have free will, just like humans do.  But you don’t  _know_  that you have free will…you think that you  _have_  to follow the script, to do everything God says…but you still have a choice.  You can choose to be different, to be better.  You’ve just never realized that you  _do_  have a choice.   _ **That’s**_  the tragedy of the whole thing.”

     Her words made no sense to him.  “It’s what I  _have_  to do…angels are made to obey, Kyra.”

     “See?  That’s exactly what I’m talking about.  Think about it, Luce…if angels don’t have free will, if they were made to  _only_  obey…then how can you explain your refusal to bow to humanity when your Father ordered you to?”

     The question made him uncomfortable.  “That…that was different.”

     Her expression told him that he wasn’t convincing her.  “How was that any different from Cass joining us?  Or my forefather leaving Heaven?  All three of you made choices, Luce.  Whether you realize it or not, you  _do_  have free will.”

     “I…”  He paused, processing everything she told him.  Honestly, the thought had never occurred to him before—but the more he thought about it, the more her words made sense.  “I never thought about it before, but…you’re right.  It doesn’t have any other explanation.”

     The smile that graced her lips held a hint of sadness.  “That’s my whole point.  You didn’t know that you had the ability to choose for yourself.  If you could go back and do it all over again, knowing that you had a choice…would you still choose the same path you did in Carthage?”

     The question caught him off guard, forcing him to reflect on the answer.  The only reason he bothered with Carthage at all was because of the stupid Apocalypse.  But if it had been up to him?  “I…no, I wouldn’t.”

     Her smile was much warmer with his answer.  “Like I said…you’re not evil, Lucifer.  You never were.  And you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”  A chuckle escaped her.  “I think once my forefather figured that out on his own, he went a little overboard.”

     He couldn’t help but smile.  “I want to believe that, Kyra.”  Curiosity got the better of him, and he asked, “About your forefather…who  _is_  he, exactly?”

     She automatically tensed at the question.  “I really shouldn’t tell you that.”

     “Why not?  It’s not like I’m gonna go tell Michael or anything.”

     “I know that, it’s just…I don’t wanna make things weird between us, you know?  I don’t want you to look at me and start thinking about him, because that would just be really awkward.”

     Before, he would’ve let the subject drop.  Now, however, too much had happened between them.  If nothing else, he wanted to know which of his brothers to thank for her existence.  “It won’t be weird, I swear!  Please, tell me.  I need to know.”

     Her expression was pained; she  _wanted_  to tell him, but part of her was afraid to.  “I…I can’t, I’m sorry.”

     His tone was gently persuasive.  “C’mon, Kyra.  Please?”

     Her resolve broke; she muttered to herself, “This is a bad idea.”  Sighing, she looked at him.  “Promise me you won’t freak out?”

     “I promise.”

     “Okay.”  She hesitated a moment; he felt her body tense.  “It’s…it’s Gabriel.”

     The name hit him with the force of a sledgehammer; all he could do was stare at her, stunned.  Of all his brothers and sisters, that was the  _one_  name he never expected to fall from her lips.  “Gabriel?” he echoed.  At her wary nod, the shock kicked in, and he screeched, “ _Gabriel?!_   Your forefather is  _my little brother_?!”

     She flinched at his raised voice.  “Yeah…”  She hid her face with one of the pillows.  “See, that’s why I didn’t wanna tell you—you’re freaking out about it.”  The pillow muffled her voice as she muttered, “I knew this was a bad idea.”

     Her last words snapped him back to the present.  Crap…she thought she’d ruined everything.  “No, no, no,” he assured her quickly, pulling the pillow back so she could see his sincerity.  “I’m just…I’m just a little surprised he could do this, that’s all.”

     “Really?”  Her voice was quiet, uncertain, yet hopeful.

     All he could do was smile.  “Yeah, really.”

     “Why is that?”

     He chuckled at the question.  “I didn’t think he had it in him.  I figured he’d still be two steps behind Michael and Raphael.  I never thought he would’ve left home, or that he could create something as beautiful as you.  I mean, after the platypus…”

     The compliment left her stunned.  “What?”

     “You heard me.”  He smiled at her.  “He really outdid himself with you.”

     Her gaze went to her hands.  “I’m not beautiful, though…never have been.”

     “Don’t say that.  You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.  Your soul is so bright and _fierce_.  You’re strong, and smart…and beautiful.”

     She blushed, embarrassed.  “You’re just saying that.”

     “No, Kyra, I mean that.”

     When she looked at him, her expression was completely serious with a hint of sadness.  “I’m a lot of things, Lucifer.  Beautiful isn’t one of them.  That’s never been a secret to me.  I’ve known that my whole life.  I’ve always been a freak.”

     “Then you believed something that isn’t right,” he insisted, forcing her to meet his gaze.  “You are  _not_  a freak, Kyra.  Being different—being what you are—doesn’t make you a freak.  Some people choose to follow others, but the brave ones, like you?  They choose to follow their own path.  You  _are_  beautiful, and don’t you dare tell me otherwise.  Different…and beautiful.”

     The effect of his words was striking; she stared at him as if she’d never heard those words before.  “You…I think you’re the first person to think that.”

     He couldn’t help but grin.  “That means I’m smarter than your friends.”

     “Or your eyesight sucks,” she teased, smirking.  “I didn’t think archangels needed glasses, but you just proved me wrong.”

     “My eyes are just fine.”

     “Whatever you say.”

     Out of nowhere, Kyra started giggling, making him give her a curious look. “What’s so funny?”

     She tried to stifle her laughter.  “Nothing…it’s a silly thought.”

     His eyes gleamed with curiosity.  “Do I get to hear it?”

     “Well, I was thinking,” she started, her tone amused.  “We’re both serious about each other…and it might be nice to just…do things together.  Like, things a normal couple would do on a date.”  She broke down into a fit of giggles again.  “Like I said…silly thought.”

     The mental image made him chuckle.  He was an  _archangel_ …who generally despised humanity…and she was talking about doing human activities with him, presumably around humans?  It was absolutely ridiculous…and yet, he could sense it was more than an idle thought to her.  There was a part of her that  _craved_  it—the same part of her that was desperate for a shred of normalcy.  Suddenly, it didn’t seem quite so ridiculous anymore.

     “You’re right.  It does sound silly,” he said.  A smile crossed his face before she could feel too disappointed.  “But…it also sounds kind of fun.   Maybe we could try it sometime.”

     His words were greeted with a wave of gratitude as she gave him a quick kiss.  The smile fell from her face as she studied him.  “But seriously…this doesn’t change anything between us, right?”

     He didn’t have to ask what she meant.  “Of course it doesn’t.  Why would it?  It’s not like he’s my little brother or anything,” he joked, chuckling to himself.

     That earned him a playful smack on his arm.  “Ha ha…come on!  I’m being serious.”

     He smiled softly.  “No, Kyra.  It doesn’t change anything.  I swear.”

     His words made her smile in return.  “Good…because I don’t know about you, but there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

     With that, she leaned in and placed a soft, chaste kiss on his lips.  Truthfully, he was still stunned at the fact his little brother was responsible for her existence, but at that moment, her bloodline was irrelevant.  What mattered was that she was  _here_ , and she cared for  _him_.  His hand came up and caressed her face as he met her gaze.

     “Me too, Kyra…me, too.”

_**The end…for now** _


End file.
